


Wolf Sitter Extraordinaire: Bound

by ThomE_Gemcity_06



Series: Wolf Sitter Extraordinaire! [4]
Category: Supernatural, due South
Genre: Alternate Universe - No supernatural, Angst, Dog-sitter, Drama, Feels, Gen, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, kid!Dean, reference child abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 19:58:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9564044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThomE_Gemcity_06/pseuds/ThomE_Gemcity_06
Summary: Dean goes missing again and Fraser goes into search-mode once again. Omissions are voiced and plans made.





	

Fraser hadn't even been gone from the hospital an hour, he had to check in at the Consulate and he'd left Dief with Dean at the hospital. But he now stood in the doorway in confusion, the bed was empty: Dean and Dief nowhere in sight.

"Dean?" Fraser called.

The bathroom door was closed, but instead of hearing an answering call from Dean, Fraser received a bark and door scratches. He opened the bathroom and found that the half-wolf had been shut in. Dief barked again and bolted out of the room, his nails scraping against the tile.

Fraser ran after him.

Dean was missing… Again.

The thought that Dean was getting checked out did enter his mind, but if that were so, than Dief wouldn’t have been locked in the bathroom.

0-0

Dean's fever had gone down. The stitches were going to be removed from his stomach the next day. The bruises on his throat were a yellowish colour as they started to fade. The bruises on his stomach were now gone, but his abdomen was a little tender. It was his hand that he was worried about. He was told, not by a doctor or a nurse because they treated him like a baby, but by Fraser. The Canadian was the only one who treated him like an adult-- not an adult- _adult_ , but like he wasn't a stupid little kid who didn't understand any of the things that happened around him.

Because he hadn't gotten them set properly and the fact that he fell on them, whacked them off of things and didn't ice them properly; the circulation was cut (that was what the pins and needles were _and_ loss of colour), and the nerves in his fingers were being pinched (and that explained why he couldn ’t move his fingers after two days). He had surgery done on his hand to reset and repair.

He’d only been in the hospital for three days, so he wasn’t allowed to do anything with his fingers just yet. They were still broken and would take a month for his broken bones to heal. It’d take two weeks for the stitches to be removed from his hand as well as his abdomen. The doctor showed him some finger exorcises for him to do when his fingers healed. But that was a long ways away. He was still ordered to the bed, IVs attached in each arm. They were going to discharge him in about a week, making sure that infection didn’t set in. He didn’t care about that though, the only thing he was glad about was that he had pain killers. Five days he’d suffered from four broken fingers with nothing to stem that pain.

One his fifth day in the hospital, Dean got a visit from someone from Child Services. The older woman has asked him a lot of personal questions. Making him divulge things that he’d rather not. Dean had tried to lie about quite a few things, that didn’t go over well because Fraser was present during the proceedings. He got in crap. He even had to give up his secret about Sammy. Dean hated them, but he couldn’t seem to feel that towards Fraser.

The Constable was there 24/7, the boy was sure of that, even when he slept. If not, then Diefenbaker was. Sure, he took comfort from having the half-wolf there with him, like a friend almost. But he was scared nonetheless. He didn’t want to end up in a foster home. Granted, that was where Sammy was and the eight-year-old was safer there than Dean ever would be. He knew what happened to kids like him, getting lost in the system because he was a ‘trouble-maker’ or ‘deeply troubled’ and who would want to have a kid like that living in their house (why put up with him when he wasn’t even really _theirs_ ). But Sammy wasn’t going to have to go through with that; someone was going adopt him and treat him like one of their own. He was the most adorable and innocent eight-year-old in the whole of the world. And Dean wasn’t just saying that because Sam was his baby brother, but because it was the simple truth. It would be good for Sammy because then he’d forget about Dean completely and any association with the name Winchester—it’d be the best thing for the little tyke.

Dean couldn’t go through an abusive home again. He wouldn’t be able to take something like that again. He didn’t even know why John had done it in the first place, but why would a complete stranger want to do that to him?—Dean didn’t even know them and they would know nothing of him. Dean was not going into a home. It was decided, even if he ended up on the streets, dying of starvation. That was better than being stuck in another unloving home. 

It was on the sixth day in the hospital that Dean decided he couldn’t wait any longer. It was a good time to make his move too because ten minutes ago Fraser had left to head to the Consulate for a meeting, leaving him with Dief.

"I should be back within the hour." Fraser promised, "Dief with keep you company."

Dean had silently nodded and when Fraser left the room, his green gaze locked eyes with the half-wolf. Dief didn’t move from his place on Dean’s bed as he stared up at the boy. He knew that look, knew the boy was up to something. He woofed suddenly and Dean jumped, giving a harsh sigh.

"I’m not gonna do anything." Dean lied. They both knew it. Dean looked away.

Ten minutes passed after that and Dean sat up, threw his legs over the side of the bed and slid to the ground. Dief watched him as he pulled the IV lines from his arms, Dean would have liked to keep the pain relievers with him, but he didn’t know how he was supposed to carry the bag with him without it going unnoticed. He went to the bathroom that was in his room. Knowing that something was up, Dief leapt from the bed and followed Dean into the bathroom. And it was there that Dief met his demise. Dean let the wolf go into the bathroom in front of him before he quickly shut him in. The boy could hear the canine jump against the door, digging at the bottom, whining and barking in protest. Dean felt bad, but he didn’t look back. Fraser was going to be back within the hour so the man would let the wolf out then.

Dean peeked out into the hall, it wasn’t that busy and the doctors and nurses that were in the hall didn’t give him much attention. There was a shelf full of gowns and stuff next to his door and when he was sure no one was looking, he grabbed a pair of green scrubs. He went back into the room and discarded his scratchy gown for starchy scrubs that were way too big for him. He had to roll the pant legs up so many times that there was a big bulk at each of his ankles. He slipped his bare feet into his shoes that were stored on the shelf by the bathroom, gave on last look around the room and at the closed bathroom door before he left. Or ran, whichever. It didn't matter to him. 

He couldn't risk passing the main nurses desk, so he used the stairs instead. Pushing the exit door open and blinking in the sunlight of his homestretch.

0-0

Fraser followed Diefenbaker, the half-wolf's pace was quick as he ran through the crowds of mid-afternoon Chicago. Fraser wasn't right at his side, but his sides were whole and the pace was nearly kept.

When they were about half way there, Fraser realized where they were going and thought that it should have been obvious from the start. But then he should have known that something like this might happen too, and he wasn't prepared and neither was Dief. No one was after Dean, but he was still running away. Whether he thought that it was better than where he was going to go or he'd just let the fear of the unknown get to him.

The Canadian knew that if he didn't get to Dean soon, the boy could vanish. He could never see Dean again, and that was something that he could not accept. He hadn't been able to find the boy when people were after him and he was severely injured, but now that no one was after him... Dean could disappear. The boy was that smart. Fraser was only gone an hour, so Dean couldn't have gotten _that_ far. Right? He just hoped that Dief was steering them right.

0-0

Dean didn't either. It wasn't like he was forced to stop, that he'd been caught, but found that there wasn't any point. If Dean was going to scatter and disappear, there was one thing that he wanted to do before he did. He had to see Sammy. Even if his brother didn't remember him, or they weren't allowed to see each other, Dean had to personally see that Sammy would be okay and taken care of if he left. Just a peek was all the preteen needed, but he wasn't going to get one. Sammy was no longer in the foster home. In the week that Dean had spent in the hospital, the kid had gotten adopted by a family.

Dean knew that this was good, for Sammy. He deserved it, to have a life that wasn't full of misery. But now Dean was thinking _what was the point?_ He didn't know where it came from, but he didn't even get to say bye to his baby brother. It was bad enough that they couldn't be proper brothers with the proper childhood, but now he couldn't even say a proper good-bye?

It had deflated him, all those unfinished plans that had been running through his brain for his perfect escape. It could have been a success... if only he'd been able to say bye-bye to Sammy. But he hadn't been able to and now he seemed stuck.

He sat on the bench in the park at 5th, Dief’s park. He didn't know why, it would just make it easier to be found. He was sure that wasn't what he wanted, but then he didn't know what he wanted anymore, if he ever wanted anything to begin with.

The painkillers were starting to wear thin, but it wasn't nothing he couldn't handle. He found himself picking the edge of the bandage though, wondering what his hand was going to look like and knowing that everything he looked at it he was going to be reminded of what happened.

"You shouldn't pick."

Dean twisted around on the bench to see Fraser behind him and shot to his feet. He felt the stitches in his abdomen pull and the wound twinge but he ignored it, his expression the definition of guilty. Fraser looked at him, but he didn't seem mad and that made Dean feel even worse somehow.

"What-what are you doing here?" Dean asked nervously.

"Just a stroll," Fraser told him. "What about you?"

"I--" Dean thought about lying, but Fraser always seemed to know when he was. It was unnerving, and he always felt that guilt when he did it. He looked down and away from Fraser. "I ran," he mumbled.

Fraser gave a smile at the omission. "May I ask why?" he came around and sat on the bench that Dean had occupied the minute before.

Dean looked at him, biting the inside of his cheek as he thought about it. He wasn't a fan of this touchy-stuff (Fraser seemed to be though), through Dean's life he couldn't afford it. Even if he had wanted to, he had no one to share anything with throughout his childhood. But Fraser had been good to him, unlike all others that he encountered; the man treated him like a person. Kind, caring... respectful-- even as time after time Dean showed that he didn't deserve it and disrespected Fraser in turn. But he'd apologize each time and he meant it each time-- Fraser was the only person that Dean had ever apologized to.

"Sammy's gone." Dean blurted and didn't know why. It wasn't Fraser's question and it wasn't the reason why he ran.

Fraser nodded and Dean knew that he knew. "Are you afraid of what's going to happen to him?"

Dean shook his head and said with conviction, "Nothing happens to Sammy."

"Then what are you afraid of?"

If this had been anyone else, Dean would never talk to them again, but this was Fraser (and he wasn't just anyone else). "I don't... want to get lost. I... don't want to get shoved somewhere where I'm not wanted and get punished for it." He swallowed, his gaze not focused as he seemed to look through Fraser.

"That's not going to happen--" Fraser started in a comforting tone.

"Don't patronize me!" Dean scoffed.

"Dean," Fraser stated then sighed. "Despite how adult your soul is, you're still a child. One that will procrastinate about rumours, make them into something that far worse than what they _really_ are. Nothing will happen to you, I won't let it." He stood and placed his hands on either of Dean's shoulders. "I promise."

Dean looked up at him, shaking his head. "You can't promise that."

Fraser was silent for a moment. He licked his lips before he spoke, "What if I can?"

Dean looked at him suspiciously. "What do you mean?"

Fraser took in a breath and pursed his lips for a moment, hesitant, but he ploughed on. "What if _I_ took you in?"

"What?" Dean's expression scrunched-up.

"What if I adopted you?" Fraser said more clearly.

" _What_?!" Dean repeated, dumbfounded.

"While you were in the hospital, I talked with the Social Worker. We talked about if there was a possibility of my adopting you; whether I could provide a proper home, education and care that you haven't had." Fraser explained to him. "I was told that it was possible; but I didn't want to doing anything unless... well, unless you wanted to."

Dean looked at him open-mouthed. Was-- was this actually happening right now? Did Fraser just say what he really just said? Did that even make any sense? What was happening? He didn't know, it was like his brain went dead or something, he couldn't think right. Fraser said that he wanted to adopt Dean, what did that mean exactly? Fraser would become his... dad. Dean felt like he was supposed to scoff at that, but... would it really be that bad? Fraser was nothing like John, the only thing that they had in common was the fact that they were both male, other than that there was nothing. Fraser was nice, he actually cared, he didn't hit children and Dean knew that he never would. That wasn't Fraser. He didn't have an intentional violent bone in his body.

"Why?" Dean finally managed to say; knew that he was kicking that gift horse in the mouth, but _needing_ to know.

"I'm not doing this out of pity or because I feel as if I have to make up for something, I am doing this because... I want it." He said simply.

Dean raised his brows at that, sure that Fraser had never done anything for himself. But why would he want Dean? It was something that the boy couldn't seem to fathom; who would willingly adopt him? He'd probably be sceptical if it was anyone but Fraser.

"Are you-- is this something that you wouldn't want?" Fraser asked him quietly, not able to keep the hurt out of his tone.

"I--" Dean looked at him. "I don't know." He said truthfully.

And he didn't. This was so sudden and so unlikely-- Was he sure that he was awake? That this wasn't the concussion acting out.

"Your head's fine." Fraser assured him, a little smile wanting to stretch his lips.

"What?" Dean said in confusion.

"Your head is fine." Fraser repeated. "This isn't a dream and you're not seeing things either."

Dean looked at him for a long moment before he nodded; now realizing that he must have said it out loud.

"What-- your apartment." Dean found himself saying.

Fraser's shoulders bobbed up and then down again in a shrug. "I can find a new one." Dean didn't look so sure. "You deserve this, Dean. To be in a proper home, with proper people... to not be scared to go to sleep." Fraser told him with conviction.

Dean didn't know why, but his heart fluttered in his chest and something lodged itself in his throat, the muscles in his jaw jumped causing it to tremble. Hot tears overflowed his eyes and burned down his freckled cheeks. He couldn't believe that this was happening now, that he had to have waited this long. And out in public and in front of Fraser; of all times and of all people.

Fraser didn't say anything and instead pulled the boy in and hugged him. Dean was stiff as a board, but he didn't jerk away. In a minute or so he hesitantly raised his arms and wrapped them around Fraser's waist. Hugs weren't a common occurrence in Dean's life. He couldn't remember getting hugs from his mother, John never showed him any kind of love or sign of affection, there were a few times with Sammy, but they had long since gone away. 

One arm was around Dean's shoulder, the other one on the back of his head as he let the boy cry into his chest. "It's going to be okay." Fraser told him. Because it would be, he’d make it so. He’d protect Dean from all, lose his life he if had to. Anything to keep Dean safe, alive, and happy.

Dean nodded and held onto Fraser like his life depended on it and maybe it did, Fraser was his last chance. Fraser was his saviour... and apparently going to be his adoptive father (wow that was the first time that he said the word _father_ and some good feeling came along with it). So he'd worry about soiling Fraser red tunic later-- they had all the time in the world.

0-0

 

**Author's Note:**

> So that's that: the end of WSE series!.  
> Happy Endings are good for the soul, they touch ya deep.  
> Please review. (smiles encouraging)


End file.
